


Not Like The Movies

by HappyStony



Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Barbecue, Blind Date, Breakup, Dating, F/M, Hate to Love, M/M, Oblivious, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, aquarium date, or dislike to love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-28
Updated: 2017-07-13
Packaged: 2018-11-20 16:24:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11339082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HappyStony/pseuds/HappyStony
Summary: The thing is, Steve can’t see anything romantic ever happen between the two of them. Maybe, maybe, a friendship would work, but from what he’s seen so far, it’d be a short one. With, most likely, a lot of arguing.Tony, well, Steve’s just not his type. The boring personality, his posture, the way he flipping eats (damn, the food isn’t going to swim away)—everything isn’t his type. Except those eyes; if those eyes were attached to anybody else, literally, he would be all over them. Ah, but, again, not his type.Or:There's two types of people in this world: the dreamers, and the dreamers who pretend they aren't. Steve's the dreamer whose lover left him, Tony's the dreamer who pretends he isn't because all he's ever known is the harsh truth of reality.But, possibly, they are exactly what the other needed to keep one from floating too high and the other from sinking too low.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Omg so excited!! Aaaaannddd scared. A little. I hope people like this! It's my first time posting on this website, so...crossing my fingers.

Tony:

“Well,” Tony begins, his eyes lifted to the ceiling as he mocks thinking, “there was Sarah—”

“You were _sixteen_ ,” Pepper Potts, one of his only friends, intervenes with an eyeroll. Tony continues as if she never spoke.

“—Rachel, Meghan, Tom—” he counts off with his fingers, and Pepper groans as she facepalms.

“Tim, and that was _one_ date.”

“Leslie, Meghan number two, Harry, David, Felicia—oh yeah, I think I was suppose to call her back,” Tony says distractedly with a grin, catching Pepper’s eyes when he casually does a spin in his office chair. She doesn’t look amused.

“Right,” she says, the annoyance dripping out of her tone almost visible, “five months ago.”

Tony sighs. “Well I was a bit busy with the last two girls you set me up with, so,” he says as an effort to ease a bit of the blame off of himself, which surprisingly worked, because then Pepper’s features soften just a bit with guilt. Unfortunately, that actually doesn’t make him feel any better. He tries to brighten the mood up a bit. “Look, Pep, you know I love you, and the only reason why I even date anyone is because of you—”

“See? You don’t even try, Tony!’

“Because no one—” _likes me_ , he almost says, but he quickly bites his tongue. He doesn’t want to argue, or rile Pepper up again, so he takes a calming breath in, his eyes fluttering closed, and then he snaps them back open a moment after. “No one...is compatible with me. Which is _fine_ ,” he says with a groan once that look is back on her face. “Which is more than fine, Pep, believe me. I don’t want a relationship, I don’t need one. I’ve got me and that’s—”

“All I need, I know,” Pepper says, and then she sighs as she looks down at her watch, which Tony gave to her on her birthday a couple years back. He’s gotten her more since then, but for some reason she always has this one on. It makes Tony smile.

“Atta girl,” He says jokingly, and Pepper huffs, but there’s a trace of a smile. She stands up a second after, pulling her skirt a bit down to get it back just above her knee, and then she grabs her purse.

“I’ve gotta go,” she says, and she hesitates for a second before looking back at him. “I’m sorry if I’m forcing you to do anything.”

Tony shakes his head immediately. “No, Pep, of all people you should know that no one can force me into anything.”

There’s only a ghost of a smile after he says that. It isn’t enough for him to feel better. How does he always manage to fuck up?

“Just,” she attempts again, and then she shrugs. “As long as you’re happy.”

He flashes her the best smile he can muster. “You know I’m always happy.”

She nods, and finally walks away. When the door closes, he lets out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding. Over the past few weeks Rhodey and Pepper have been nagging him more than usual lately; this time over a blind date. Even Happy has been on board, suspiciously and not so subtly attempting to casually bring it up the other day. Who the hell still goes on blind dates anyway? Even then, they should know now to just give up on this whole ‘Let’s try and get Tony a girlfriend/boyfriend!’ thing because, as it has been for years, it always fails in the end. Always. And it isn’t always his fault, contrary to belief. He liked Rachel, and Leslie, and Harry, and even Emily, who just broke up with him not even a month ago over, wait for it, his attention. She didn’t even know him for three weeks before deciding they didn’t have enough time for each other. Which isn’t true. He bailed on, like, five dates. That’s good compared to everybody else, mind you, and he’s a busy person! What else did she expect?

Tony wipes his face with his hands, rubbing at his eyes especially hard before sighing. All this dating nonsense leaves him exhausted. However, he can see why they do it. They’re tired of the clinginess, the drunken confessions, the random angry outbursts, the sudden need to be alone, and the constant reminder of how much of an asshole he is everytime he’s in contact with anyone after being alone for too long. He can’t help it, of course, it’s just the way he is, but they don’t see that. They think he’s lonely; he needs someone to look after him when they can’t, which he hates to think of because he’s not someone to look after. He’s a grown man who owns a multi-billion dollar company and he needs to be looked after? Him? Tony Stark?

He scoffs at himself, and then finally decides to do some work, but only because in the back of his mind he knows that the answer to that is _yes, Tony Stark needs someone to look after him, like a baby_. And as his father use to say to him all the time, “To be dependant is to be weak, son. Learn to work with what you got. Never let anyone have that much control over you.” Well, look how well that advice went?

  
Steve:

They just didn’t... _click_. She was nice, of course, and smart. Beautiful, too. Her dirty blonde hair cascaded down past her decently sized breasts (Steve always had a thing for long hair). Her waist was small but her hips and butt were large, showing that she exercises regularly, which would have been another good thing they had in common. Her murky, sea green eyes were something that Steve knew that he could easily get lost in one day; and those lips. So plump, Steve was sure that she had them injected, but even then they fit her well. She was, essentially, perfect. But, again, he didn’t feel that spark, like when he first met Peggy. He didn’t feel that immediate attraction from inside as well; where his heart soared for no reason and his head felt light. His knees wobbled and all the air had escaped from his lungs. He wouldn’t know what to say, and instead would mumble some gibberish—but she would know exactly how to respond. That—that’s exactly what he’s looking for, again, and unfortunately...Jane wasn’t that. She wasn’t Peggy.

What part of that does Bucky not understand? It always ends like this.

“So, you’re telling me,” he says slowly, eyes narrowed on Steve, as he uses his hands to help make out what he’s saying, “you rejected that beautiful woman because she wasn’t _Peggy_? _Again_?"

Steve only slightly flushes at that, shaking his head. “No, I mean, we just didn’t—”

“Click, I got it,” Bucky says, and then he runs his hand through his hair, huffing out an exasperated chuckle. “Christ, Steve, you’re softer than a fuckin’ banana left out on my ma’s counter for her famous once a year chocolate chip banana bread. This is, what, the tenth time?”

Steve salivates at the mention of Bucky’s mothers famous banana bread, and then focuses on what his best friend just said. He lightly laughs at him and leans forward to grab the remote for the t.v., and finally answers his dramatic friend as he leans back down onto the couch, taking a swing at his already half empty beer. “Guess that just means I need to find someone who likes soft bananas.”

Bucky stares at him for a full five seconds, and by then Steve has already flipped through a couple channels before settling on one, and finally Bucky sets his jaw with an annoyed shake to the head. “Only you, Steve,” he mutters, before gulping down his own can of beer. “Only you.”

They focus on whatever Steve stumbled upon when he was surfing the channels. It's something manly and gory; something he only chose to watch because he knew otherwise Bucky would have complained about everything else that doesn't contain at least one cuss word every five minutes. It starts to get boring though, after a couple minutes of staring at the screen, and finally Bucky speaks up.

“I deleted your account on that dating site today,” he says casually, and Steve nods his head. Natasha was the one that made them all, anyway. He always believed in meeting someone by chance. Bucky continues without looking at Steve. “I mean, mostly because I thought you were gonna stick with that beauty earlier but,” he shrugs, “it looks like settin’ you up is harder than readin’ fuckin’ Chinese.”

Steve nods, even though Bucky still isn't looking at him. It's fine, because he seems a bit engrossed in whatever is going on right now in the movie—or is this a show?

“Nat finally found a job,” Bucky says a couple seconds later, and Steve raises his eyebrows. After their break up a couple weeks ago, he hasn't heard that name in awhile. At least it shows that it's getting easier for him. Hopefully. Steve hums as an answer, and Bucky nods.

“Yeah. ‘M kinda glad for her, ya know? Some secretary at some company for now but...at least she's movin’ on too.”

It's sad, really, how they ended things. They both didn't necessarily want to end it, but their differences were way too stark for them to ignore; Bucky wanted kids one day, she didn't; both their beliefs didn't compare. And on top of that, they were both hot headed and stubborn. After one pretty nasty argument, they both decided that they couldn't do it anymore, and Natasha moved out, quit her job, and stayed with Clint at his place for a bit to get herself back on track. And to mourn, of course. She never let any of them see her cry, though.

Now that Steve thinks about it, he hasn't heard about Sam in a while. He's been a bit busy with his job as an art teacher at a high school of all things and going on all these ridiculous dates to satisfy everyone else.

“And Sam?” Steve asks, opening another beer can. Bucky laughs.

“The shitheads workin’ as a chauffeur for the rich and famous now. He's probably gon’ be out in two weeks and back at being a janitor for McDonald's,” Bucky chuckles. Steve laughs along with him, knowing how quickly Sam hops from one job to another, not exactly knowing what to do with his life yet. Bucky continues with his mouth on the beer can, making his words a bit muffled, “Met a guy named Happy, of all people.” He shakes his head and drinks. Steve smiles and sighs.

“Happy,” Steve repeats with a snort, and then he yawns as he finishes off his second beer for the night. It _is_ a friday, but the thought of getting drunk right now doesn’t appeal to him, so Steve stretches a bit and then stands up. Bucky finally looks at him, a kind of thoughtful expression on his face. He’s already on his third can, but luckily that isn’t enough for him to start talking nonsense, so Steve waits to see what he has to say.

“I miss her,” Bucky finally manages, and Steve nods. Bucky looks back at the t.v. “‘M sorry...for judging you. I never thought that...someone can just stay in your mind like that. I really fuckin’ miss her, Steve.”

Steve nods again, Peggy back on his mind. At least Natasha and Bucky left on good terms. He and Peggy broke up on a terrible note; but what really hurt the most was that it was so abrupt. They were perfect, and then they weren’t. Bucky says that they were living in a dream, and finally woke up. Steve still doesn’t believe it.

“It gets easier,” Steve finally says, and Bucky doesn’t look at him again, so he finally walks back to his room to draw, and hopefully fall asleep before midnight. (He doesn’t.)

  
Tony:

If he had known that Happy, Rhodey and Pepper were all conspiring behind his back, he would have ran away the moment they invited themselves into his home and sat him down on the couch, opposite of them. He can already see it in their faces; they’ve planned something, and Tony doesn’t like it one bit. Just as Pepper opens her mouth, Tony winces and holds up both of his hands.

“Wait, wait. Hold up. I don’t know what you guys have planned here but if it has anything to do with what that reporter said last week she was _lying_. I never said anything about eating out Justin Bieber's—”

“No,” Pepper forces out, her eyes closed. “Stop, no, this isn’t anything about that. Stop. Why would—” She stops herself and shakes her head as Rhodey tries to hold in a laugh. Finally Happy steps in.

“It’s about that blind date,” Happy says. “Pepper and I know some people who know a guy who’s single and ready to be with someone. We want to set you up with him. Next Friday, preferably.”

Tony blinks. “There’s actually a date?”

Rhodey furrows his eyebrows, so Tony clears his throat and tries again. “I mean, you guys already found someone? I just—I just broke up with Emily a month ago, you guys—”

“And since then,” Rhodey says, edging a bit closer to the edge of the couch, “you’ve been going back to clubbing, holing yourself up afterwards, and asking all three of us to come over when you’re done because you suddenly remember you don’t like being alone.”

Tony narrows his eyes, ready to get defensive, because that’s just the way he lives; they _know_ that, but Pepper jumps in quickly.

“No, look, he said that wrong. What we—we’re trying,” she huffs, “we’re trying one last time. This is the last time we try to set you up, but only because we’re realizing now that...that maybe a relationship isn’t what you need.”

Tony leans back into the couch, his eyes still narrowed. “I feel like that isn’t everything.”

Pepper looks at the men next to her, and then back at Tony. She purses her lips. “On one condition. You have to date him for three months, and at least put in half effort. If he breaks up with you, that’s on him, but you have to try for three months.”

At first Tony wants to just flat out say ‘no’, just because he can, but looking at all their faces right now, anxious and hopeful, he gives it another thought. Really looking at them, he can see that they're exhausted. They need a break, for once, and if having Tony occupied for three months, or at least the promise, is what they need, then maybe he should give it to them. Then again, he’s a grown ass adult, and so are they. If he was really that much of a nuisance then they should just tell him. But Pepper looks so hopeful…

Tony thinks for a second. Three months doesn’t seem that long to be dating someone, and knowing him, the guy would be gone within the first week. Even with half effort. He finally relents.

“Three months?” He asks, even though he knows. All three of them surprisingly perk up at that, Rhodey still with a bit of a defensive look, but nonetheless surprised. Tony smirks. “Easy.”

The grins he gets in return makes it a bit worth it, but for some reason his stomach still twists in what feels like nervousness. He pushes it down and let’s all three of them talk over each other in excitement. _Easy peazy_ , he repeats in his mind.

  
Steve:

“Excuse me?” Steve finally coughs out, the snorted up orange juice making his eyes water. He coughs a bit more as Bucky forces down a smile.

“I mean,” he says casually, his eyes wandering and fingers playing with the tablecloth, “the last time I heard the word blind date was back in that movie we watched when we were still wonderin’ what the fuck a boner was. Remember that movie? The one—”

“Yeah,” Steve says quickly, finally recovered from choking on flipping orange juice, and continues with the subject. “I remember. Who’ve you been talking to?”

Bucky acts like he didn’t hear him. “Good, but that movie wasn’t that good anyway. Way too fuckin’ sappy in my opinion. But you should go. The guy seems...interesting. Whatever can be interestin' about guys,” he finishes off distractedly, looking down at his phone after it vibrates. He smiles a second later. Steve persists.

“Who’ve you been talking to?”

Bucky sighs and sets his phone down after typing for a bit. “Nobody. Just…,” he waves his hands around, rolling his eyes. “People. I know someone, who knows someone who knows a guy, type of thing. Anyways, the date’s Friday. Seven. Sea Paradise.”

Steve groans. “But I don’t even like seafood—”

Bucky shakes his head, his finger wagging along with it. “Nuh uh. Not with me. Remember that time you gobbled up that shrimp soup two Christmases ago, and those crabs we caught when we were at California that we cooked up and ate that same day? _And_ you’ve eaten fish plenty of times to know how you like it. And you know that Sea Paradise doesn’t offer just seafood, so don’t come at me with that bullshit.”

Steve glares. “I eat it when I have to. Seafood is _never_ my first choice.”

Bucky finally shrugs, only looking amused. “Well, this is a ‘have to’ situation. And anyways, I didn’t choose the place. Someone else did.”

“Wait, I didn’t even agree to this yet,” Steve groans, which makes Bucky laugh.

“Too bad,” he says with a toothy grin. “The guys already agreed. You can’t leave him hangin’ _already_. But, ah,” Bucky shifts uncomfortably for a second, which makes Steve narrow his eyes suspiciously. And even more surprising is when he has the audacity to turn a bit pink.

“What?” He asks, eyes still narrowed on his best friend.

“You have to...promise me you’ll…” Bucky pauses with a huff. “Every time we set you up with someone you last one date. One fuckin’ date Steve, you don’t even give ‘em a chance.”

Steve looks down at his breakfast, suddenly remembering that it exists. He mumbles out a reply. “What’s the point in leading them on when I already know it’s not going to work out?”

“Do you think Tasha and I—” Bucky stops abruptly, realizing what he’s about to say. Steve purposely doesn’t look at him; it wouldn’t be nice to give him that “ _See_?” look. “You can’t judge a relationship through one date. That’s why…” Bucky continues, and then he forces out the next few words. “I hate to say this but you have to promise me that you’ll date him for three months.”

Steve thinks immediately, but Bucky continues.

“And this will be the last time I, and everybody else, will ever try to set you up again. No more telling you to move on; no more dating sites; no other blind date. Once the three months are over—you’ll be free. You’ll prove everyone right. Or show everyone that you can move on. Whatever happens.”

Steve raises an eyebrow, his tone dry when he says, “So, everybody else already knew about this blind date, even the blind date himself, before I did?”

Bucky blankly stares back. “So, is that all you care about?”

Steve huff’s, leaning back into his chair. “Come on, Buck, three months? That’s gonna take up my whole summer!”

“And, what, that’s such a loss for you?” Bucky counters back, his arms crossed now. “The last time I checked, you were busy with doin’ nothin’! An’ anyways, say no and I’ll make four new accounts on the first dating sites I see. Even Grindr.”

Steve glares, groaning in despair afterwards when he realizes that he has to do this. He can’t bail on this date already. But only if this is the last time he’s ever forced on a date again. He looks back at Bucky with a stern gaze.

“And no one will ever pester me with dating again?” Steve asks, and Bucky nods, his gaze just as unwavering. Steve is the first to break it with a sigh.

“Fine. Asshole.”

Bucky grins. “That’s right. I knew you’d come around.”

  
Tony:

He’s fucking _nervous_ , of all things. Why? Because he knows nothing about the guy? Because he’s jumping into something he’s never done before? Because for the next three months he’s going to be dating a _stranger_? Okay, maybe the stranger part isn’t killing him, but he’s essentially stuck with this guy for almost twelve weeks. That’s a big commitment right there. One he isn’t sure he’s ready for. The only thing he knows about the guy is that he’s an art teacher, of all things. At a _high school_. Either this guy actually likes teenagers or he’s an extreme masochist. Tony’s hoping for the latter.

Pepper made sure that Tony was at least ten minutes early to their date, but the faster the seconds go by, the more nervous he gets. He’s already thinking about fifteen different ways he can strangle her when the door gives another chime as someone walks in. He looks up anxiously, but it’s just another old couple. He grimaces and looks down at his hands, which are sweaty and playing with the sleeves of his shirt. He doesn’t even _like_ seafood, but Pepper was adamant on them going somewhere not too expensive, but not too cheap, and Rhodey suggested this place, and everyone went along with it. Apparently it isn’t that far from where the guy lives, but it was a thirty minute drive from his own mansion. Tony snorts as he thinks about driving home single still. Imagine a date going that badly? Well, it will if the guy knows who he is. But he’s never been _that_ popular in the papers, anyway. At least, he hopes so.

The bell chimes again when someone walks in, and Tony looks up to see a tall, blond male looking around the place nervously. He looks a bit lost, his hands in fists as he slowly walks further into the restaurant. If this guy is it, Tony wants to snort. Firstly, he’s never been into buff guys. This guy looks like he’s never missed a day in the gym. And that hair. Had he ever mentioned he was interested in blondes? Wait, okay, scratch that. Interested in _up tight_ blondes? His hair is styled like he was back in the 40’s. Or 50’s, 60’s, whatever. Not twenty first century. But, when the guy catches Tony’s eyes, he quickly finds that the blue in his eyes are pretty, before offering his billion dollar smile. The guy looks away to scan the room once more, before finally walking towards Tony. He suddenly feels ridiculous for ever being nervous.

Well, this should be interesting.

  
Steve:

He’s always been into brunettes, but this guy just isn’t his type, right off the bat. Oh, and that smile he flashed him? Not attractive at _all_. What was the guy doing? Trying to impress some hidden cameras? Unfortunately, he’s the only one in the room so far with a blue shirt and not old enough to be his father, so he stalks towards him. Once he’s close enough, he gives a polite smile.

“Ah, are you here for a blind date, too? I really wish I was given a name, but everything was left rather secretive.” He gives him a nervous chuckle. The guy gave him another blinding smile. Steve tries not to wince.

“Yeah. Tony, by the way. Take a seat.”

Steve takes it, looking around as he sits, as if someone might save him. He looks back at Tony, who only seems amused. Well, at least he doesn’t know that Steve wants to run away, but if this Tony guy can’t tell, then who knows how dense he is in general. Steve tries his best not to dwell in it.

“Steve,” he finally answers when he sits down comfortably. There’s a beat of awkward silence. He’s in the middle of trying to get himself to strike a conversation when Tony makes a noise to catch his attention.

“So, is this your first time…?” He asks, trailing off to see if Steve catches his drift. Steve shifts awkwardly, clearing his throat, his eyes wandering again for no apparent reason.

“Uh, yeah. Yeah. I mean, no, I’ve been on...dates, you know, but...ah, this is my first blind date. If-if that’s what you’re asking.” God Steve really wants to leave. This three months thing in the back of his mind is _killing_ him.

Tony nods, obviously not very interested. It makes Steve annoyed.

“You like seafood, then?” Tony asks, looking down at his menu. Steve does the same, forcing himself to lie, for Tony’s sake. He’s guessing it was probably Tony’s idea to go here in the first place, so he nods his head.

“Yeah, yeah,” He trails off, trying to think of what to say. “Always...variety.”

Tony nods. “Yup.” He pops his ‘p’, making the conversation even more awkward. Steve inwardly grimaced at that.

Finally, a waitress comes over to take their order. Sure, she’s cute, but Tony didn't have to make looking her up and down so blatantly obvious, and offer her that ‘hidden camera’ smile so cheekily when Steve’s _right_ here. He grips his menu tightly when Tony speaks.

“Hey beautiful, I don't know about Steve here but I'm ready to order. I'll start off with your most expensive alcohol beverage and the Moroccan salmon and shrimp. Once I'm done with that I’d like half a dozen oysters on the half shell and some scallops to help finish off the meal. As for dessert,” he pauses with a smirk, handing the menu back to her, “surprise me.”

The waitress writes that all down, a light blush covering her nose and cheeks. She turns to Steve expectantly. He already has that nauseous feeling just from watching Tony take his order. What kind of asshole does that? Does he think he’s attractive flaunting himself like that? If so, he’s dead wrong. And it's not like Steve can say “Same as him” because who knows how expensive that’s going to be, and he didn’t know he was going to have to bring his entire savings to this stupid date. He can't wait to complain to Bucky when he gets home. Oh God, thinking of seafood isn’t making that vomit feeling go away. He tries to swallow it down when the silence continues.

“I'll, uh, have a water. And the...Skillet bronzed tilapia...and can you come back for the dessert? I'm not sure yet.”

She smiles politely. “Of course,” she says, a then gives both the men a polite nod. “Your drinks should be here shortly.” She then walks away, leaving Tony and Steve alone. Again. It makes him want to throw up even more.

  
Tony:

He looks like he’s about to throw up. It was cute in the beginning, maybe even a bit amusing, but now it’s making Tony uncomfortable. Striking up a conversation didn’t work earlier, so he isn’t sure if he should try again. Maybe it’ll make Steve’s face look a little less green though, so Tony inwardly sighs like a child before finally saying, “I’ve never actually been here before. Hopefully the foods good.” Okay, maybe mentioning food wasn’t the best idea. If anything, Steve’s starting to look more like shrek than less. He tries again. “So, how do you think this happened?”

Steve actually perks up at that a bit. Tony gives himself a point for that, and then elaborates. “You know, I’m guessing we don’t have a mutual friend, but maybe our friends are friends. Do you know anyone named Pepper—or, or Virginia? Rhodey—James Rhodes?” Tony stumbles over his words, unsure if everyone else calls them by those nicknames. He’s an awful friend, isn’t he?

Steve shakes his head. Tony raises his eyebrows expectantly, and Steve finally talks back, a natural color starting to take over his face again. “No, none of those names really ring a bell. Know anybody named James Barnes or Sam Wilson?”

There’s so many James’ and Sam’s he’s probably met, but no one he considers a friend, so he shakes his head. “I guess they all know each other somehow.”

Steve nods. _Come on_ , Tony thinks, _say something_. _Stop looking like you’re looking for an escape route_. Tony can’t be the only one trying here. It takes two. After another couple seconds of nothing, Tony finally takes his phone out, bored. The least Steve can do is _try_. Tony’s already given half effort, as he’s promised to Pepper. Maybe he will be single by the time the clock hits 8:30. Now wouldn’t that be hilarious?

Surprisingly, Steve speaks up after a minute of silence. He looks a bit annoyed when Tony looks up from his phone, but it’s better than the green he was wearing earlier.

“So,” Steve trails off, and Tony uses every ounce of self control to keep his smirk away, “what do you like to do in your spare time?”

Well, isn’t _that_ a loaded question. Tony thinks for a second. “I’m a bit of a mechanical/engineer kind of guy, so I guess you can say I like to build things. Use my hands.” Steve glances down at Tony’s hands, perfectly manicured and rested comfortably on the table. Steve looks back up a bit disbelievingly.

“Uh huh,” he says dryly, and Tony keeps himself from glaring. “I’m an art teacher, so I guess it’s pretty clear what I like to do in my free time.”

“Your job?” Tony says quickly, not ready to accept that answer. If Steve wants to judge him by the way his fucking hands look, of all things, then there’s nothing wrong with questioning Steve about his hobbies. “Sorry, it’s just...if that was me, I’d be bored beyond my mind. Going to work doing one thing, going home and doing the same. Seems pretty repetitive.”

“Familiar,” Steve says, his eyes a bit narrowed. “I’d say it’s familiar. Not repetitive. Art is always different. And, working at a high school, there is never a same day.”

Treading on water, Tony can feel it, so he quickly changes the subject before they can start talking about _teenagers_. “You said this was your first time on a blind date, but not on a date. Have your friends been setting you up lately?”

Steve looks a bit skeptical, but then nods. “Yeah, ah, I had someone about a year ago, but since then I’ve had, like, two dates every week.” He looks at Tony flushed just as he says that, looking as if he wants to take that back. Luckily, Tony’s on the same boat.

“Ugh, same. Ninety percent of the relationships I’ve been in is because of them. It gets exhausting, most of the time, constantly having to meet new people...and...impress,” Tony rambles on, rubbing his eyes just thinking about it. When he looks at Steve, he’s looking at him with surprise, and then with a small, understanding smile. Ha, another point there.

“Yeah,” Steve chuckles. “Except, I don’t even bother impressing half the time.” He winces. “I mean, I do, but...nothing usually goes past a first date.” He winces again, and Tony holds in a laugh, only grinning in return.

“Well, maybe this time it will,” Tony says, but silently praying that it won’t. In fact, Steve’s just given him more confidence about leaving this place single still. Steve gives him a half smile.

The waitress comes back with their drinks, the expensive bottle he asked for earlier set in front of him in an ice bucket, the cork already gone, and two empty glasses right next to it. Steve’s water is left in front of him, and the girl asks if he knows what he wants for dessert, and Steve reddens at the question, since he hadn’t checked yet. Tony waves it off. “Give him whatever you give me.”

Steve pauses and looks at Tony in disbelief as the waitress nods and grabs the menu, promptly informing them that their food should be there shortly. After she leaves, Steve still looks, well, disturbed.

“ _Tony_ ,” He finally says, and Tony represses an eyeroll. Great. He’s already mastered that exasperated tone Pepper and Rhodey use. Not good. Tony sighs.

“What?”

He looks at a loss of words. Tony keeps his face neutral as he finally splutters out something. “I just—I mean, you…?”

“You don’t like that I ordered for you?”

Steve mumbles under his breath, “I mean, it wasn’t even exactly an order. You asked for a surprise.”

Tony thinks for a second. “Are you allergic to anything?”

Steve clenches his jaw for a second. “No, but—”

“Fine,” Tony says, his next words chosen carefully, “next time I won’t.” He waits for Steve to say there won’t be one; to say something like ‘Don’t count on it’ or ‘Doubt it’. Instead, he looks like he’s eaten something sour. Eh, good enough.

  
Both:

Dinners awkward for the rest of the time. They get their food, attempt to make small talk, fail, continue eating, repeat. It makes both of them eat their food as quickly as they can.

The thing is, Steve can’t see anything romantic ever happen between the two of them. Maybe, _maybe_ , a friendship would work, but from what he’s seen so far, it’d be a short one. With, most likely, a lot of arguing.

Tony, well, Steve’s just not his type. The boring personality, his posture, the way he flipping eats (damn, the food isn’t going to _swim away_ )—everything isn’t his type. Except those eyes; if those eyes were attached to anybody else, literally, he would be all over them. Ah, but, again, not his type.

When they’re given their desserts, both the men are pleasantly surprised when the waitress sets down a chocolate-looking cake in front of them. She gives them a small smile. “I hope you two enjoy our Turtle Fudge Brownie with pecans and vanilla ice cream. Have a great night!”

She walks away before they can properly wish her one as well, but they quickly distract themselves with the brownie anyway. Tony gives himself a third imaginary point for not having a disappointing dessert that he ordered for himself and Steve (totally not because he didn’t make Steve even more upset with him—that would be pathetic). They eat in silence again, but the closer they get to finishing, the more eager they get. Tony’s only had his second glass of whatever it is he’s drinking (definitely not even something he can consider an expensive drink), and he tries one last time for Steve to have some, even though they’re date is almost over.

“Hey,” Tony says, catching Steve’s attention. Steve stops his lips from pursing, wanting the night to be over already. It’s the last week of school next week, so he needs to get himself ready for it over this weekend. “Seriously, try some of this, it’s good.” Tony ignores the voice that screams at him ‘DON’T LIE!’. He has a feeling, though, that Steve wouldn’t know any better.

Steve pushes down the urge to give Tony an exasperated sigh. He makes an excuse, instead.

“I really can’t. I’m driving home alone and I’d rather be sober,” he says, and Tony throws him an ‘Are You Serious Right Now?’ look.

“Come on,” Tony persists, and he’s already pouring whatever champagne this is onto the second cup, only filling it barely a third of the way. “It’s my treat. Promise you’ll be sober still by the time we leave.” _Anything_ to get this guy to leave him, honestly. Tony hums appreciatively when Steve takes the glass, albeit with a very heavy frown. Hey, what about delete a point or two for making Steve upset twice now. _So_ , Tony thinks, _I should have about two-thirds a chance leaving here without ever seeing Steve again. The odds are in my favor._

He watches Steve take a sip, and then another, and then finally a healthy gulp of it. Steve sets it down a moment after, not really sure of the taste (he’s had better at weddings and such), but the way it burns down his throat and settles warmly in his stomach makes him feel a bit better. Unfortunately, Tony speaks.

“Good?” Tony asks, not really caring what Steve’s answer is, though he would laugh if Steve just flat out said no. He takes a sip of his drink. Steve gives a polite shrug.

“It’s better than some,” Steve says. As annoying as Tony is, he can’t say no. That would be rude.

A moment later their bill comes, and Tony snatches it before Steve even notices what the waitress put down. Tony smiles sweetly at her and places his card inside, handing it back to her a moment after. Steve’s ready to object, his insides already boiling, when she walks away. Tony puts a hand up.

“Wait, like I said, my treat.”

“For the _champagne_ ,” Steve says, and he pinches his nose quickly, to help calm himself down. He takes a deep breath. “Tony, it’s real...thoughtful of you to pay for the both of us, but I’m more than capable of ordering and paying for myself.”

“Next time you can pay,” Tony says distractedly, and only then does Steve get this sick feeling in his stomach. Does Tony know that he was coerced into dating him for three months? Is he taking advantage of that? What if he was paid to do this? Is this all a terrible prank?

Tony notices that face he’s making, and suddenly feels bad. But why? The dude can leave anytime he wants! After a few more seconds of Steve looking like he’s having a midlife crisis, he stops trying to act like a dick.

“I’m sorry,” he forces out, and Steve looks at him with suspicion. “I really didn’t... I mean, I did but—no, what I’m saying is I’m sorry for ordering and paying for you. I’m just...use to it, is all. All the dates I’ve been on, you know. You just learn how to, ah, get this whole thing over with quickly, instead of that awkward conversation of ‘I’ll pay’, ‘no, I’ll pay’—yeah,” he says, cutting himself off once he realizes he’s rambling, and oh God Steve’s having that ‘maybe he isn’t half bad’ face again and Tony doesn’t want a second date, dammit. What happened to _Asshole of the Year: Tony Stark_ Award? Tony finally decides that he’s just tired, so he addresses the elephant in the room.

“Yeah. So, is there going to be another date?” Tony asks, and he almost punches himself over how he must sound. Like a desperate teenage girl. “I mean, there doesn’t…” he trails off, trying to think of the right words. He can’t exactly make Steve say no, since he promised Pepper to try, but would it count if he implies it?

Steve takes the silence as Tony wanting him to answer, and he takes back what he thought of earlier, of Tony knowing what’s going on. “It...depends on you, really. I won’t mind.” Steve frowns at what he just said. Won’t mind? _Won’t mind_?

Tony inwardly groans for the hundredth time during this dumb date. Obviously, the odds were not in his favor. Fuck life. He offers Steve another of his brightest smiles.

“Great,” he lies through his teeth. He glances at the bottle of champagne, suddenly appreciating the fact that he bought the whole thing. He’ll drink the rest of it on the way back home. He looks back at Steve, who he thinks is basically mirroring his expression. Tony doesn’t understand, honestly. “Sure. Perfect. Should I get your number, or?”

“Oh, right. Yeah. Um,” Steve replies unintelligently. He grabs his phone from his back pocket, and he tries his best not to get embarrassed when he pulls it out, comparing it to Tony’s phone. He unlocks it and presses on contacts, and then hands it to Tony, who takes it without saying a word. It’s silent when he types his number in, and when he hands it back Steve doesn’t waste a second to shove it in the back of his pocket and push his empty plate away.

The waitress comes back with Tony’s card, planning on walking away quickly with another ‘Have a good night!’ when they both tell her to wait. _She was the only good thing about tonight_ , they both think similarly. Tony speaks first.

“Hey, thanks for being a great waitress tonight. But, one more thing. What places would you recommend for a second date?” Tony says. He looks at Steve to make sure he isn’t looking, nor the waitress, and sets down a hundred dollar bill as a tip, under the plate that held his dessert. The waitress doesn’t hesitate.

“Here, of course.” She gives another polite smile. “Anything else?”

Tony looks at Steve, who only shakes his head. “Oh, no, just—thanks.”

She gives them a nod and walks away, towards another couple who just walked in. Steve takes his wallet out, setting down a twenty before standing up.

“I’ll tip her,” he tells Tony, and Tony smiles, spreading his arms out as he stands up.

“Great. Um, see you…?”

Steve awkwardly nods. “Yeah, I’ll, um, text you.”

“Good,” Tony mumbles, “Good.” He grabs the bottle, and looks at Steve curiously. Steve shakes his head.

“Take it. Ah, good night. It was nice...meeting you.”

Tony smiles. “Likewise.”

There’s another awkward moment, and then Steve offers a curt nod and walks away. Tony stays standing with a bottle of champagne in his hand for a few seconds, watching Steve walk out, before slumping down and wallowing in self pity.

“Fuck me,” he says to nobody in particular. Maybe Steve was being nice, and will never actually text him. Ha, there's the optimism.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I usually don't look anything past a first draft *winces* but if there's any mistakes, sorry! You're welcome to point them out :)

Steve:

"He ordered for me and then paid without even _consulting_ with me, Buck! The guy was a nightmare!"

"Sounds like a gentleman," Bucky says distractedly, picking at his teeth with a tooth pick. He winces when he accidentally pokes at his gum.

Steve sighs exasperatedly. It's ten at night, and he's been ranting only for the past five minutes. The first hour and a half that he'd been home, he was thinking of what exactly he can whine about. And took a shower, cleaning the night off.

"And he shamelessly flirted with the waitress, right in front of me," Steve mutters, his arms crossed. "Oh! And he had the nerve to call my life repetitive; _repetitive_ , Buck! He doesn't even know me!"

Buck hums, pulling the tooth pick out of his mouth again. "Kind of is." He furrows his eyebrows and further inspects the tooth pick. "What the fuck is that?" He mutters to himself, and then wipes the tooth pick onto his pants.

Steve raises his eyebrows, pointing at himself. " _My_  life is repetitive? Bucky—whose side are you on?"

"Yours, of course," he says, picking at another tooth. He makes a pleased noise when he finally finds the damn kernel lodged in between the teeth towards the back of his mouth.

Steve groans, leaning back against the couch he's on, a beer in hand.

"And like I said, he's not even hot. Ugh, and don't even get me _started_  on that smile."

"I 'on't," Bucky says over his toothpick, carefully pushing the kernel out. One mistake and he's done for.

"It's like he was smiling at a camera crew. Or-or he was on the red carpet. It was so...so unnecessarily _flashy_. And almost intimidating, you know? He had this egotistical aura coming off of him every time he did it. I hated it. Still do."

"Uh-huh," Bucky says, lifting his tongue toward the left, his eyes crossed down, as if he'd be able to see what the hell he's doing. The kernel is coming out, though. So, that's a good sign.

Steve stares at the ceiling, suddenly quiet. He speaks up again after taking a swing of his beer. "I didn't feel anything when I saw him, or went near him. Or heard his voice. Absolutely nothing. My heart doesn't feel any different."

"Fuck yeah," Bucky says, the kernel popping out. He smiles and throws the toothpick somewhere on the ground before turning to Steve. "Hey, if you're so hung up on finding something out of a fairy tale, how come things didn't work out with Peggy, hm?"

Steve turns to him and glares. "Sometimes it takes two times."

"Or three, or four, or five—or never. Honestly, Steve. Give the guy a chance, wontcha?" Bucky says, before grabbing the remote and turning the tv on.

"Even then," Steve continues, "I would probably feel better having to date Jane for three months than _him_. She was at least someone I can stare at in appreciation." He thinks back to the date he had last week.

Buck chuckles. "Whatever you say, Steve. You're sure as hell not gettin' out of this one."

  
Tony:

"First of all," Tony says when he walks inside his mansion, a bottle of champagne in his hand, "his name is Steve, Pepper. A boring, generic, Steve. And his appearance and personality match it."

Pepper rolls her eyes, taking the champagne out of Tony's hands before he can stupidly raise it to his lips to chug. Rhodey laughs from behind her.

"And? Did you manage not to fuck it up?" Rhodey asks, and Pepper turns to glare at him, probably ready to hiss his name in that scolding tone, but Tony groans over it.

"Stop. I wish I did, don't even remind me," Tony whines, walking past them to sit on the nearest couch. He doesn't hear anything for awhile, probably because both of them are a bit stunned.

Once he's seated, they're still staring at him with their mouths open like fish. Tony lifts his hands.

"What? Did you really expect me to not take my word? I gave half effort, and unfortunately he appreciated it."

Pepper is quick to take out her phone, typing on it. Before he can really question it, Rhodey walks toward him with a wicked grin.

"Well, shit. So his name's Steve?"

Tony makes a displeased noise. "Stop. I told you not to remind me—it's giving me a headache." He closes his eyes.

Rhodes rolls his eyes, punching Tony's shoulder when he's close enough. "You know, I never even expected you to agree to this from the beginning. I'm proud of you."

Tony opens one eye, narrowing it when he see's Rhodey's thoughtful expression. "For one date? Didn't know you had such low expectations."

"For trying," Rhodey says with a laugh. "I think that it's good that you're trying. For once."

"Shut up," Tony says, but there's no actual heat behind it, mostly due to the fact that he's exhausted. Not only did he have a busy day, but _trying_  during this date tired him out. Also, it might be due to the fact that for the past three days he's had ten hours of sleep in total. Maybe. Tony doesn't know. "I always try," he mumbles.

"I know you do, Tones, I know," Rhodey says quietly, and Tony feels foreign hands and his body shift a bit, but by then he's already succumbed to sleep.

  
Steve:

"—or so help me Steve!"

Steve keeps a strong grip on his phone, trying to pry it out of Bucky's hands. Bucky continues to yell at him.

"Give it!" Bucky continues to pull, and Steve huffs out a breath before adjusting his grip and pulling back. He hates that they're equally matched in strength. Loathes it from the depths of his soul.

"You—are— _not_ —texting—him!" Steve grits out, his feet digging into the carpet in their living room. Bucky's lucky he has the couch behind him, or else Steve would have let go and happily watched him tumble to the ground with a loud thump. He's surprised Bucky hasn't let go, but probably because he knows that if he does, Steve won't bother sending his first text to Tony for another three days.

"Gah! Come on! You haven't texted him in three days!" Bucky insists. Poor phone, Steve thinks, also praying a moment later that it doesn't break.

"I've—been busy," Steve barely manages out, his fingers slipping a bit. Another thing he hates about Bucky: he doesn't get sweaty hands.

Bucky gives out a breathy chuckle. "It's the last week of—school. Don't," he takes a breath, tugging harder, "give me that bull shit."

"The last week's the busiest!" Steve persists.

"Fuck you," Bucky mutters out, and finally Steve lets go of his phone before Bucky does, and sure enough he watches his best friend crash onto the couch behind him. It's not as satisfying as he hoped. Bucky gives out a loud 'whoop!' before settling down and sighing at Steve. They keep a staring contest until Bucky finally breaks.

"Come on!" Bucky says, as if that alone will change Steve's mind. "How the hell are you goin' to date a guy for three months without talking to him, huh?"

Steve does a half shrug, walking towards the kitchen. "Peggy and I never needed to text."

"And look how well that turned out," Bucky not so subtly (though Steve doubts he tried) mumbles. Steve decides to humor Bucky by yelling, "I heard that!" And then proceeds to open the fridge to get something to eat.

All he gets is a fake laugh in return, and then Bucky walks into the kitchen, making himself comfortable on the counter, Steve's phone still in his hand. Steve eyes it before looking back at the fridge. Why the hell do they randomly have pickles? Oh, right, aren't they having a barbecue soon?

"'M textin' him," Bucky says a moment later, and Steve freezes, sticking his head out quickly with wide eyes. Sure enough, Bucky has his head facing his lap, his legs slightly swinging as his fingers tap against Steve's phone. Steve walks over.

"Buck, seriously, stop."

Bucky immediately twists his body away from Steve, stretching his arm out far towards the right so that Steve can't reach it. Steve doesn't attempt to, however. Only gives him that 'I'm actually really serious and not in the mood for dealing with this crap' face. Bucky hates it.

"I'm only sayin' hi, and that you're sorry you haven't texted right away and you've been busy," Bucky says defensively, and finally Steve backs down.

"Okay," he says, raising his hands up in the air, and then bringing them down quickly to point them at Buck, his face irritatingly a bit smug. "Fine. Let's see how fast he texts back, anyway. I'm telling you, he didn't like the date either. I don't know why he—you know," Steve says stopping to take a breath, his eyes suddenly narrowed. He points a finger at Bucky, "I really don't know why he agreed on a second date."

Bucky smirks. "Well, maybe you would if you fuckin' texted him sooner." He then throws Steve's phone back, climbing off of the counter with an unattractive snort. "He texted you back already, by the way," Bucky says over his shoulder.

Steve nearly drops his phone in surprise.

  
Tony:

Tony gasps into his cup of water, his eyes immediately watering a second later, and then he's coughing and wheezing, and all of the board members are looking at him with concern. The person next to him surprisingly pats his back as he tries to catch his breath.

He clears his throat, looking at the people around him, the guy up front giving the presentation looking a bit frazzled with the unexpected interruption. Tony weakly smiles. "Excuse me," he says, his voice a bit rough, "continue." He clears his throat again.

When he thinks that everyone's eyes are off of him for good, he quickly takes his phone off of the table and instead under it, turning his phone on again and reading the preview of a message from an unknown number.

Or, at least, it _was_ an unknown number. A minute ago.

_Hey, it's Steve! I'm sorry for the delay, but I've been extremely busy with work. Luckily it's summertime next week ;) When should we meet up next?_

Tony re-reads it multiple times before looking up at the people around him and shifting uncomfortably. He _really_ should be paying attention, but this—it's surprising, to say the least. He accepted two days ago that Steve was lying about texting him, and was (stupidly, stupidly, _stupidly)_  rubbing it in everyone's faces yesterday that he was a free man. The only one not buying it was Pepper, weirdly enough.

She bet him two hundred dollars. That...that woman!

He bites his thumb quickly, his eyes scanning the room one more time before typing a reply.

 _Hi. I'm free pretty much everyday after five_. 

At least, he thinks, but that's why he has Pepper.

He presses send.

He doesn't get a reply until three and a half hours later, saying they should meet up at the same place at the same time, tomorrow.

He might as well die.

  
Steve:

Now Steve suddenly has a trick up his sleeve that no one can call him out for.

He'll just make Tony not like him. That's it. That's literally it, and then he won't have to deal with those dating sites and going out every week and maybe he can go back to Peggy without feeling so pathetic—

It's not against the rules. Sure, he hasn't asked, but all Bucky said was that he had to date Tony for three months, but who says Tony has to date him for three months? If Tony leaves, that isn't on Steve.

It's so fool proof, Steve wants to give himself a pat on the back. God, he's so smart.

And that's why he chose Sea Paradise again, so that this time he can complain. He'll eat messily, be rude, talk about—okay, not Peggy, but maybe romance. For some reason, Steve doesn't peg Tony as much of a romantic. Or, at least, in the old fashioned sense. _Fairytale,_  he can already hear Bucky hissing, _not old fashioned. It's a fairytale romance that you're thinkin' of, Rogers_.

Same difference.

He also keeps Tony waiting; waits until four to text Tony back, and then surprises him (hopefully?) by adding that they should meet up tomorrow at the same place and time. No attempt at being creative; just, Steve almost laughs, _repetitive_.

~~~

Bucky raises his eyebrows in pleasant surprise.

"Wow. Today. Already," he trails off, nodding his head slowly. He then narrows his eyes in suspicion. "Where?"

Steve shrugs. "Um, the...Sea Paradise. Again."

Bucky snorts. "There's the catch. Damn. Can you at least try?"

Steve hesitates, only for a second, before defending himself. "I _am_  trying! I texted him, didn't I? And then planned our second date?"

Bucky nods his head. "Oh, yeah, after I texted him for you, and you—wait, chose the _same_ exact place and time for a second date. I like the...what's the word?" Bucky snaps his fingers. "Right. Effort."

Steve shakes his head. "You know, this really is just wasting time. But not only mine, his as well. You know how bad I'd feel if I just led him on for three months?"

"He's a guy," Bucky says nonchalantly, biting his thumbnail as he plays a dumb game on his phone. "He'll get over it."

Steve rolls eyes at his friends remark. So very naïve.

"Having a dick doesn't make you immune to feelings," Steve responds, and then he looks down at himself and grimaces at how girly that sounded. Bucky notices and laughs.

"No, but you get over shit quicker."

Steve stops himself from mumbling, " _Not for me_."

  
Tony:

"Today?" Rhodey laughs, and Tony glares while throwing on his shirt. He looks at himself in the mirror. No. Too formal. "Damn. He doesn't talk to you for days and then asks you out on a date."

Tony throws his shirt onto the bed, taking the second one Rhodey suggested, and then sighs. "He said he was busy...kinda wish he still is."

Rhodey laughs again while Tony looks at himself in the mirror. Good enough. He looks at Rhodey with his arms open. "Well?" He doesn't let him answer. "Good. Wish me luck."

He walks past Rhodey quickly, his hands checking his pants for the fifth time to make sure he still has his phone, keys and wallet. He does.

Rhodey chuckles and follows Tony out. "I don't think you need it. You never do." They both find their way to the front door, the whole time bickering over who gets the most luck, because there's no way Tony has more luck than Rhodey, right?

"You met _me_ ," Tony says cockily, and Rhodey has the audacity to laugh.

"Well, that just proves my point, doesn't it?"

Tony glares. "Okay, fine, whatever I have more luck than you. Wish me luck on something not going the way it's suppose to tonight, yeah?"

Rhodey shakes his head. "What happened to trying?"

Tony groans, opening his front door. "I am. Just tired." He starts to walk out the door, but then he looks back quickly to add, "And heat up some pizza rolls when I get home. I'm _tired_ of seafood."

"You had it last week!"

"Exactly!" Tony responds, and then he walks out the door, swinging his keys casually as he hops into his _very_ expensive car.

Along the way he tries to think about some good qualities in Steve, but he honestly doesn't know the man enough to really make a decision. He has nice eyes. Sadly, that's it.

He hums along to the radio, drumming his fingers along with the beat as he speeds past other vehicles. What drew Steve in? Was it Tony's good looks? His charming personality? His kind generosity? Does Steve even _know_ who Tony is? Is it the money?

No, Steve doesn't know who Tony is. He doesn't know exactly why he's so sure, but if Steve knew, he has a feeling that they wouldn't have even gotten past the first five minutes. Knowing Tony's past, Steve wouldn't have been pleased.

Maybe he should bring it up. Tony laughs out loud at that, imagining Steve's face as he says, "Do you know who I am?" But, who knows, what if Steve finds that attractive in him?

Oh, for Pete's sake who cares if Steve finds that attractive. That's all that ever keeps people around anyway; his money. And, frankly, he isn't desperate enough to keep Steve around in the first place.

Okay, so, scratch that whole part of bringing up his crazy past.

How is he going to go through with this stupid second date?

  
Steve:

This time, Steve's early. He came around the same time he did in the last date, which was only about a minute or two before it hit seven, but now it's 7:15 and who the hell knows where Tony is. He's almost desperate enough to text him, but he decides against it, not wanting to show Tony that he cares if he's late. Or if he never shows up. Either way, it works in his favor.

What he doesn't like is looking like some poor dude who's date stood him up. Everyone keeps looking at him in sympathy, even the waitress they had last time (God what was her name?), and she's already come twice asking if he's ready to order.

Where the hell is Tony?

"Sir?"

Steve jumps, looking up at the waitress. He notices a second later that he's gripping the table, his fingers tips white. He hastily let's go, and then nervously chuckles.

"You know what, I'll just order." He looks through the menu, and his stomach begins to hurt again. Fuck. What was he thinking going back here again? Oh yeah, he doesn't like seafood, but he was planning on complaining about that with Tony who is, ha, _not here_. He decides to order what he had last time, the exact same thing, because it was good and he doesn't feel like anymore surprises, and then with a sudden burst of confidence says, "Oh, actually, would you mind doubling that? Except the dessert. What about another surprise, Miss...?" He trails off, and the waitress actually smirks, seeming to know what Steve's doing.

"I'm Sarah. And my pleasure, Mister...?"

"Steve," Steve answers kindly, and she nods, walking away with her pad and the menus. When she's done, he looks down at his phone. 7:20. Amazing. He just ordered two dinners for one. Well, that isn't a first. But still. Maybe Bucky will appreciate it when he brings it home and shoves it in his face that Tony never showed up. Look who was right all along now?

"Shit, you're still here?" Steve hears behind him, and he has to hold his breath to stop himself from screaming.

Tony walks past him, his expression still one of shock. He sits down, mouth opening and closing, and then he finally splutters out, "Well, fuck, I'm—sorry, shit. I actually didn't mean to be late it's just—I-I live like half an hour away and I left the house at seven because I'm a fucking dumbass—God, I'm surprised your still here," Tony rambles, and Steve doesn't know if he should still be angry or calm down a bit. He stays in the middle.

"Half an hour away?" Steve asks, and Tony nods his head, still looking a bit flustered.

"Yeah, I live...well, yeah, not really that nearby. Um, do you?" And then Tony seems to have calmed down a bit, and Steve nods.

"Yeah, only about a seven minute drive. I didn't know," Steve adds a bit hesitantly, because half an hour is pretty far to go on a date, but Tony shakes his head quickly.

"No, it's fine. Really. Um, so, have you ordered yet?"

Steve turns red at that. "Uh, yeah, and I—I ordered for you."

Lord, why did he do that? Now that he's saying it out loud, to Tony's face, he feels like...a dick. And to put it simply, he doesn't often feel that way. He's generally a nice person.

  
Tony:

Tony almost wants to laugh at that. And there Steve was last time, offended by the fact that Tony ordered dessert for him when here he is ordering his entire meal. Well, Tony can't honestly blame him. He _is_ twenty minutes late, after all.

"It's fine," Tony says, and then there's an awkward silence. There's chatter in the background that would be pleasant if this silence between them felt natural. The tension is a bit suffocating.

Steve looks unusually green, again, and Tony suddenly wonders if Steve acts weird because he's nervous. So, he actually _does_ have a small crush on Tony, doesn't he? No wonder why he acts so weird and jittery. Tony almost feels bad for him, really, because it's kind of cruel to lead a guy on like that.

 _But_  that's what he has Rhodey and Pepper to blame for. Haha.

Steve looks like he wants to say something, but doesn't know how to say it, so Tony kindly decides to help him out. "Hey, whatever you have to say, just say it. Don't look so nervous."

  
Both:

Steve looks up in surprise after hearing that. Tony actually looks sympathetic, weirdly enough. Was he really that obvious? But now he doesn't feel like complaining. Actually, he can't. He can't find it in himself to complain and be rude and do all the things he was initially planning on doing because he's just not _like_ that. Sure, he can lead a guy on for three months but can't drive him away to spare him the pain.

Woohoo, he's such a fucking hero.

Why is he like this again?

Across from him Tony raises an eyebrow, because Steve looks like he's still having that internal debate in his head, but before he can speak again the waitress from last time is setting down their water. Hm. Water. Boring.

She smiles at the two, and she quickly says, "Glad you decided to show up," to Tony before walking away. Tony's eyes widen, and Steve chokes back a laugh.

"Yeah," Tony eventually says, because is she even allowed to do that?

Steve, shamefully, feels better after the comment Sarah left, and lets himself chuckle. "I think she—I think she felt bad for me, is all."

Tony looks back at Steve, and then he nods. "Yeah," he replies distractedly. Okay, first off, wasn't the waitress suppose to be on his side? Not Steve's? Did she _not_ appreciate his generous tip?

 _Or_ , Tony thinks bitterly, _life isn't always about money for some people._

It's another round of awkward silence for the two and Tony's in the middle of contemplating suicide (not really, of course—God knows what Pepper would do if she ever knew what went on inside his head), when Steve clears his throat. Hallelujah!

"I think," Steve begins, not exactly even thinking, to be honest. He has no idea what he's going to say until he continues talking, "you should...pick our next date. If-if you're willing to...again." Steve wants to cry, he really does. When was the last Tom he cried, anyway? Oh. Right. When Peggy left.

Tony looks constipated.

"U-uh," Tony stutters, because already? Right now? They're planning a third date and it hasn't even been a week, Jesus.

Their food comes in, and now Tony wants to laugh out loud when the first thing that comes to his mind is aquarium. Is that bad? He takes a look at their plates and then realizes they have the same thing.

He looks up and catches Steve's eye.

"Aquarium," Tony says, and mentally applauds himself when he doesn't waver. Steve, lucky bastard, didn't have a chance to put his fork into his mouth and choke on it. Instead, he sets his fork down with an odd expression.

Well, at least it's something. Not exactly as dramatic as Tony would've liked. He digs into his food and waits for Steve to say something, hiding his smile.

"Aquarium?" Steve repeats, his face still puzzled. Tony nods and chews on his fish.

"Why not?" Tony asks, and there's a bit of humor there that Steve doesn't really like, "I'd rather watch them than eat them for a third time."

Steve turns red, the flush going from underneath his shirt collar to his forehead. Tony can't decide if it's cute or not.

Tony won that round, and it's about time Steve does too, so finally Steve smirks and eats his own dinner. Be a gentlemen.

"Great. What about this time I pick you up?"

Tony is the one that ends up choking on his food. Why him? He has enough stress as it is!

Tony immediately shakes his head. It's fun having Steve not know entirely who he is, so he quickly makes an excuse. Steve stares in confusion at first, but then his lips quirk up a bit.

"My—my house is under some...construction, right now. Not pretty. And dirty. And really far. Um. We can...," Tony trails off as Steve waits patiently, the fool having the audacity to smile. Tony's eyes harden. "We'll meet up at the front. Next Friday. 1 o'clock." He promptly shoves more food into his mouth before he can insult Steve, because he's immature like that, sadly.

Steve grins. "I really don't mind."

"I...do," Tony eventually says, and Steve doesn't know why he feels so triumphant. Maybe because he actually got Tony to look anything other than cocky. It's nice, to say the least.

Weirdly enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okie this feels a lot shorter than the last chapter but stay with me here! Let's hope their aquarium date goes well ^-^ Please comment!! I really appreciate those ahaaa


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bear with me please haha I'm still trying to figure my way through this website!

Tony:

He honestly doesn't know what he was thinking. An aquarium? Where anybody can recognize him? Sure, as he knows, he isn't entirely the Kardashians or Justin Bieber level of fame, but he's definitely somewhere there. Sea Paradise was usually filled with old people, and can barely manage more than 70 individuals. An aquarium is huge and has constant visitors. But also, when has he ever enjoyed going to them?

Hold on a second.

Tony stares at himself in the bathroom mirror, toothbrush hanging out of his mouth in realization. Has he ever _been_ to an aquarium? Okay, wrong question. When was the last time he was in an aquarium? Surely he's been to one. Probably. Maybe. Of course!

He must've been, well, too young to remember?

What the hell was he thinking anyway? It's like whenever he's around Steve he says and does the dumbest things. Alright, _fuck_ trying to give half effort. He needs to drive Steve away as soon as possible. He can't go on pretending  to like someone and going on dumb dates for three months. It's too crazy and time consuming.

Tony rubs his eyes tiredly, putting his toothbrush away. This is too much thinking, he needs to go to bed (for once).

~~~

"I like it," Pepper says quickly, her smile beginning to beam. "It's cute! Oh my God, for once Tony you're being cute!"

"It's an aquarium," Tony deadpans, and Rhodey chuckles from next to him, patting his shoulder before stealing the second waffle from Tony's plate. Tony turns to him to glare, and Rhodey stuffs his face quickly. Tony points the fork at him. "Not funny, James."

"Seriously," Pepper tries again, and Tony tries not to wince at the chewing noises Rhodey's making _right next to him_ , "You're always going on dates at restaurants. And yeah, that's normal to do but it's always good to spice things up a little. I'm proud of you!"

"I swear," Tony groans, letting his head drop against the table. "You guys are proud of the dumbest things."

"Hey!" Rhodey says, and he's finally eaten the whole waffle, and has taken a seat next to him. "So far you've actually shown improvement, you know. You haven't missed a date, you chose a cute place, and surprisingly you've actually been sleeping lately, haven't you?" Rhodey says, his eyes a bit narrowed, as if that's a bad thing.

Tony sits up, sliding his plate to Rhodey and standing up. "Dating exhausts me. Now, if you guys don't mind, I've got another date to get ready for. And no, I don't need help choosing an outfit, let me _be_ for once."

~~~

"No, definitely the white. The blue is too much, especially for an aquarium," Pepper says thoughtfully, her legs crossed as she sits on Tony's bed. Rhodey, next to her, shakes his head. Tony watches them from the mirror in front of him in distain.

"No, the blue brings out his eyes. And a plain white shirt is boring," Rhodey replies. Tony makes an unpleasant noise from the back of his throat, throwing the shirt off and stomping towards his closet.

" _This_ is why I didn't want you guys to help me. I'm fine with choosing clothes on my own, thank you very much," Tony says, pulling out a blue button up to please Rhodey and then the plain white shirt off of the bed to please Pepper. After throwing them on and leaving the blue shirt unbuttoned he sprays a bit of cologne on himself and looks at his best friends.

"I can dress for casual occasions. Like an adult," he says with a sarcastic smile, but both Rhodey and Pepper just seem amused. He rolls his eyes and walks out the room muttering, "You guys just love to baby me. Go get some kids or something if you want to go and mother someone!"

  
Steve:

"I've gotta meet him, Steve," Bucky all but laughs out, his smile wide and genuine as he takes the time to make _fun_ of poor Steve. The blond glares.

"You're such a jerk, you know that?" Steve replies, and then he perks up when they're number is called, and he's quick to get their order and leave McDonalds as quickly as possible. Bucky is behind him, a hand already in the bag to pull out a random burger. They both ordered the same thing, so it doesn't really matter. It always annoys Steve, though, when Bucky can't wait until they're home to eat whenever they go out for food.

After he bites into his burger, Bucky decides to continue their conversation, despite the fact that Steve obviously doesn't want to hear it.

"I'm serious, about meeting this mysterious Tony. If he can one up _you_ in datin' then he must be a good fuckin' fella," Bucky says around a mouthful of burger, and it makes Steve cringe. Well, both the burger and what Bucky just said. He grips the bag in his hand and speeds up his pace, Bucky groaning and protesting from behind him.

"Trust me, if you meet him, you won't like him." Steve pauses for a second. "Or maybe you two should meet, and then you'd be on my side for once."

"Well, then, why not?" Bucky says, finally next to him. He curses when someone bumps into him, yelling out, "Fuck you, too!" And then turning to Steve with a scowl. He takes another bite of his burger and continues. "Invite him over one day—or for the barbecue! Invite him to the barbecue, he can meet the whole gang."

Steve almost trips over his feet, apologizing when he almost falls over a little girl with her mom, both of them speeding up out of the way. He looks back at Bucky wide eyed.

"Are you _insane_? I don't need to introduce him to you, let alone our whole group. He isn't special. Hell, it took me two months to feel comfortable with letting Peggy meet them," Steve says, and he quickly continues when Bucky opens his mouth. He has a weird feeling that it's going to be another insult about his past relationship with her. "You know how annoying it'd be to first hear all their complaints about not knowing about him, and what if...," he shudders, "they like him?" He shakes his head quickly, and then walks into their apartment complex. He continues talking as they walk up the stairs and to their shared apartment. "And he's still a stranger to them. It'd be weird to invite him to Clint's house."

" _Clint_ invites strangers to his house," Bucky says, closing the door once they're both inside, his burger now finished. He takes the bag from Steve and digs out his French fries, eating them alone. Steve can't eat French fries without ketchup. "But, if you insist. Just know that I'll meet him eventually. Three months is a long time to stay hidden."

"Three months is a long time to date someone," Steve mutters in reply, looking at the clock. It's almost twelve thirty, which means he has only about fifteen minutes max to go to the aquarium that he and Tony agreed on. Why did he get lunch so late? He then thinks about eating with Tony again, and decides that eating now isn't such a bad idea. He starts eating his burger when Bucky can't take the silence any longer.

"So," he starts, and Steve looks at him warily. Bucky doesn't look at Steve as he walks over to their dining table, taking a seat while still picking at his fries. "Have you...heard from Nat? At all? Has she...," Bucky chuckles suddenly, and Steve knows that Bucky's feeling stupid now.

"No," Steve says lightly, and Bucky looks up at that. "Not—not because you two broke up, don't worry. We've just been...busy." He leaves out _'and you're a sensitive topic'_. "She called just that last time, but I haven't heard from her since. Why?"

Bucky gives a lopsided smile, leaning down to rest his chin on the table. He shrugs. "I don't know. It's—that feeling of just wanting to know how she is. You know it," he says, not unkindly, his eyes wide and pained.

Steve nods a little. Peggy broke his heart, for goodness sake. He understands plenty about what Bucky is going through right now.

Bucky takes a deep breath. "How long—have you ever gotten over Peggy?" Bucky asks, and then he sucks in another breath, running a hand through his hair. "I mean—how long does it take to move on?"

Steve looks away, focusing on opening the small ketchup packages and pouring them onto his fries. After a long moment he mumbles, "I don't think I'm the best person to ask." Because in all honesty, he hasn't exactly moved on yet, no matter what all the others think. He can take hearing her name, talking about the past, accepting jokes, but deep down he still wants her. Them. Their passion again. The fire they had. But she's gone; ran away somewhere in England and never came back.

  
The look on Bucky's face makes Steve continue. "But it gets easier."

Bucky gives him that look, the one that says, "You've said that before." So he tries again. He's his best friend, and Bucky was definitely there when Peggy left. "It takes time, Bucky. Sometimes you feel fine, and then suddenly you just miss her, and it's hard but...I swear I mean it when I say that it eventually gets easier. But, you know, it's you and Nat. Maybe you two can work it out again."

Bucky shakes his head, standing up. "No, it's—we're over. I'm sorry—" Bucky starts, suddenly apologetic.

Steve shakes his head, finishing off his burger. "No, I get it. I did it to you all the time, anyway. It's fine. Natural," Steve stresses, and Bucky laughs.

"Right. Don't ya have a date to get to?" Bucky asks, looking at the clock in amusement, changing the subject, and Steve's eyes widen, turning to look at the clock. It's twelve fifty. _Already_? It's a fifteen minute bike ride, but at least he'll get back at Tony for being late. Bucky seems to know what Steve's thinking, by his smirk.

"It ain't exactly twenty minutes, but you've never been great at revenge."

Steve laughs, shoving some more French fries into his mouth before grabbing the keys to his motorcycle and his helmet. "Isn't that a good thing? Revenge's never been the answer in my book."

Bucky answers him from the kitchen as Steve opens the door. "Do the high schoolers know that good ol' Mister Rogers won't help them get back at their awful, cheating ex's 'cause it ain't in his 'book'?"

"Teenagers aren't that bad, trust me!" Steve says, and then he closes the door with a smile. He's lying, he knows it, but he also knows that it'll make Bucky laugh and shake his head.

  
Tony:

He waits just outside of the aquarium, alone, sunglasses on and shoulders hunched. He's already checked his phone six times, feeling stood up. It's barely been five minutes but now he's getting restless. Is this Steve getting _back_  at him? Tony explained his situation; he had an excuse. That leaves no right for Steve to—

His thoughts are interrupted by the sound of feet thumping loudly against cement and heavy breathing, as well as the obvious, "Tony!" from a few yards away. Tony looks up from his phone, playing a game he just downloaded out of boredom (though there's probably plenty important things he could have been doing that would've made Pepper happy), and he see's Steve jogging towards him. When he catches up, Tony flashes a sarcastic smile and puts his phone away in his back pocket, crossing his arms afterwards.

"So," he drawls out, Steve's expression already guilty, "guess we're a bit even, huh? Those twenty minutes must have sucked."

Steve's gaze hardens a bit, following Tony as he walks toward the entrance. "That isn't—doesn't have anything to do with this. Sorry I'm late, I lost track of time," Steve says, and it sounds a bit forced. Tony's glad for the sunglasses, thankful that Steve can't see him rolling his eyes.

"Right," Tony says, just as he reaches the entrance. "Two tickets, please."

Steve starts to take out his wallet, and Tony wonders if he should bother paying for him. It'd be easier, first of all, money wise, but also much more mentally exhausting if he's going to have to fight Steve for it. He thinks 'fuck it' and hands over a fifty, the guy at the desk taking it and handing Tony the change and tickets in exchange. Steve makes a noise from the back of his throats and Tony turns with an exasperated expression.

"I get it, you're capable of doing it yourself, you're not helpless—yadayada, can we please do this after the date?" Tony asks, and Steve's face turns red, and Tony stifles a laugh. It's an angry red, one that Tony's now sure he's going to see quite often.

"Just," Steve starts, and then he seems to deflate when Tony leads them inside, the rooms now dark and illuminated with a dark blue, tanks now visible, and a crowd of people around them. Steve starts again, much calmer as Tony stops in front of—fishes. Tony leans forward, squinting. He probably should take his sunglasses off. "Never mind. Let's just take turns then. Next time I'm paying."

Tony hums in response, lifting his glasses up to his head to squint at the fishes again. _Blue Tang Surgeonfish_  it reads, and then it goes on to state various facts about it. He only skims half heartedly, wondering why the fish seems so familiar. Neither of them talk for awhile, and then a little girl runs over, pulling her mom along with her as she points at the fishes Tony is looking at. Once she's over she presses her head against the glass, her brown eyes bright and blonde hair bouncing along with her excitement.

"Mommy! Mommy! It's Dory!" She yells, and her mom looks over apologetically at Steve and Tony before nodding.

"Yes, yes, come on—you have Dory at home, remember? Let's go see Nemo now."

The little girl nods solemnly, and as they walk away Tony's right eye twitches. He's suppose to be considered a freaking genius and here he was wondering why the hell a fish seemed so familiar. How did he _not_ put two and two together?

Steve notices Tony's tense posture, and he furrows his eyebrows in concern. "Ah, you okay?"

Tony looks back at him, confused. "Hm?" He hums, and then he realizes what Steve's talking about and shakes his head. "Oh, nothing. Just—nothing. Dory, right? It's cute," Tony mutters, looking back at the fishes with a glare. "Finding Nemo was ten times better anyway."

Steve looks puzzled when Tony looks over at him, the silence unnerving. " _What_?" Steve eventually asks, and Tony shakes his head.

"Never mind. Let's go look at something else."

  
Steve:

Steve follows Tony around, and it isn't as much as a hassle as he'd thought it'd be. Tony actually stops to look and admire, instead of ushering and taking pictures, like most of the people around them. He'd actually stuff his hands in his pockets and read, or skim, and then watch the sea creatures with a sort of interest that can only be described as curiosity. Sometimes he'd mutter something, talking gibberish to himself before abruptly turning to the next tank. It's actually a bit endearing, but Steve will never admit that out loud. They're watching squids now, and Tony's muttering again.

"...Pepper...no, she'd get mad," Tony says, and then says a bit more before he walks away from Steve again, towards a tunnel. Steve follows, his head tilted and taking in the space around them. Once they're inside the tunnel, there's sharks swimming above and around them, and Tony actually laughs from in front of them. Steve's lips involuntarily lift up, as if he's about to smile, of all things, before he forces them down. Tony's grinning now.

"Okay, who cares what Pepper says. I'm _so_ building an aquarium."

Steve actually laughs at that; a surprised sound, forcing its way out of his chest and throat before he covers his mouth and smothers the rest. Tony looks back, surprised, as if he forgot about Steve. He probably did.

"What?" Tony asks, and then he tilts his head, a small smile forming. "Oh, that probably sounded...weird. I'm an idiot," Tony says, laughing at himself as he face palms. Steve let's himself chuckle this time, his grin so natural it's a bit scary.

"No, it's fine. I'd probably build one too," Steve answers, his eyes lifting and wandering again as he looks at all the sharks and other various species swimming among them. Tony smirks, and then he's admiring the view, too. People usher past them as they take their time walking through the tunnel.

"So," Steve says casually, getting Tony's attention. He tries to think of something to start a conversation, and after a few seconds of nothing, Tony decides to talk for him.

"I forgot the last time I was in an aquarium," Tony says truthfully, eyes still on a sting ray. "Or maybe I've never been to one. I don't know. Sorry if it's boring. The first thing that popped to my mind, honestly."

Steve's shaking his head before Tony even finishes. "It's not. I like it. I'm an artist. I appreciate things like this." He pauses and glances at Tony. "And it seems like you do too. How's your maybe first aquarium visit so far?"

Tony laughs, sighing as he starts to walk again, his gaze now on a zebra shark. "It's nice, I guess. Interesting. I just wonder...," Tony trails off, his fingers reaching towards the glass before pulling away. He looks at Steve, his expression showing embarrassment. "God, I'm gonna bore you. Let's go see what else there is."

Steve stands up straighter, surprised. "Hey, no, come on. Talk. It's better than the silence we've been having."

Tony snorts. "Trust me, what I was about to say would have bored you beyond measure. But," his eyes seem to glint as he looks at Steve in amusement. "If you insist."

He then goes on in a tangent about the design of the building, the way the lighting isn't enough to give off the full beauty of the animals; how boring the tanks look ("They need some type of design. Have you seen Fish Tank Kings? I could probably do something like them, but better."), how there's no Great White's, and then goes on about how there's probably a reason for it, noting that he should google it later, and then find a solution. ("Think about how cool that would be! God, now I _need_ to make an aquarium. How does Star—ah, Tony Aquarium sound to you? Never mind. That's dumb. Ooh! Can we actually touch them here?")

That's how they ended up, for probably half an hour now, at the little section where anyone (mostly kids) can touch the little fish and such in a slightly large pool towards the end of the tour. Tony's still blabbing, but Steve's actually _enjoying_ it, surprisingly.

"I wish we can touch _everything_ ," Tony suddenly says, still trying to touch this one tiny shark that keeps swimming away. It's been frustrating Tony for the past five minutes. "These are cool, but how would a seahorse feel? Or even jellyfish?"

Steve smiles, his hand gently running through the water, before he pulls it out. His fingers look a little pruned. "Jellyfish sting."

Tony looks at Steve, annoyed. "I _know_ that, but some...don't. I think."

Steve shakes his head, amused. "Come on, I think we've touched enough."

Tony looks like he's about to protest, maybe even whine, but then he collects himself quickly, wiping his hands dry. "Yeah. Yeah. How long have we been here, anyway?"

Steve takes his phone out, just to glance at the time before putting it away. "Almost an hour and a half."

  
Both:

Tony whistles, walking next to Steve as they see what's next. It's more Sea Stars and the like. They bump shoulders at some point, and both of them make space as if they aren't allowed to touch, but no one says anything about it. They then reach the sea otters, and both of them hold in their coo's for odd reasons and instead stare in admiration, taking in the scenery. They walk a little more, and finally they're date is coming to an end, once they reach the gift shop. It's full of sea related merchandise; little stuffed animals here and there, along with hats and shirts, as well as little key chains and cups. There's more, but Tony isn't interested, by the hesitant look on his face, and Steve decides to do something he probably shouldn't and takes a small stuffed jellyfish and then a sea horse next to it. He looks at Tony with a nervous smile when he glances back at him.

Tony bristles at Steve's expression. "What?" He asks, and Steve shrugs.

"You want both?"

They stare, and then Tony folds his arms and chuckles, Steve laughing along. "I'm a grown man. What am I going to do with a stuffed animal?"

Instead of taking offense, because it's true, Tony's a grown man, Steve continues to laugh and walk towards the register. "Animals, you mean. And you asked how it would feel to touch these. Now you have your chance."

Tony sighs in amusement as he watches Steve pay, unsure how exactly he should feel about this. It's almost cute, and Tony wants to hate it, but he can't, so he plays along. "Oh, really? I guess it's the next big thing to actually touching a live one."

Steve beams, taking the receipt and the stuffed animals. " _Exactly_! Now you're getting it."

They both walk out, smiling and looking almost like an actual couple. _All we're missing is the_ _holding hands and looking into each other's eyes dreamily_  part, Tony thinks bitterly when Steve turns to him with a cheeky grin.

"So," Steve starts, holding up the jellyfish. "On a scale of one to ten, how bad do you think this is gonna sting?"

_Oh_ , Tony answers in his head, with a hint of fear, unable to look away from Steve's sparkling blue eyes, _probably a ten if I let it_.

Out loud, Tony casually lays a finger onto his chin, thinking. "Gee, I don't know, maybe a three if it likes me."

"Well, check," Steve says, handing it to Tony. Tony gasps when he touches it, his hand coiling back.

Steve let's out a snicker. "Awe, I didn't think it'd be _that_ bad. Did anyone ever tell you that it's stuffed?"

Tony gasps in horror, a hand clutching his heart. He can't stop, for whatever reason. He likes Steve's smile, and laugh, and eyes. "You liar! And here I thought I can finally trust you."

Steve rolls his eyes, still amused, and hands Tony the two stuffed toys. Tony takes them cautiously, eyeing them and holding both of them separately with his two thumbs and pointer fingers. "You can. You're just a drama queen."

Tony suppresses a smile, his tone serious when he says, "I've never taken a lie lightly."

They both falter at that, the moment ruined. Tony wants to smack himself; how _stupid_ of him. He's lying right now, to Steve. Not directly, really, but still. This, what they have, isn't exactly real.

Steve holds down his guilt, but it's tough. This date was surprisingly going well—great, even. Ruined by a lie. When have lies ever been good, anyway?

Tony's about to say something, probably lighten up the mood or change the subject, when Steve's phone buzzes. It's surprising, first of all, because people rarely ever text him. He quickly checks it because of that reason, scared that something might have happened to someone. Tony waits patiently, his mouth clamping shut.

Steve's ready to apologize when he scans the message, and then he laughs when he see's who it's from. It's more of a surprised laugh; one that says 'I'm surprised and can't exactly comprehend this'. Tony doesn't ask about it, instead taking his own phone out, pretending to do something interesting.

Steve shakes his head, putting his phone away. He looks guilty when he looks at Tony, and he decides why not? And tells Tony who it was anyway.

"Sorry," Steve says, and Tony's about to object, but Steve barrels on. "It's—that was one of my co-workers. Just. Her name's Lisa, and she was just asking..."

_Hey, Steve! How's your summer been? Tell me when you're free! You owe me a date, remember? ;)_

Tony shakes his head, a hand up. "No, no need to explain. The dates over anyway. This was fun." Tony purses his lips, and then takes his sunglasses from his head (hah, he almost forgot about them) and then he places them over his eyes. "Uh—we'll stay in touch?" Tony wants to add a joke afterwards, maybe a " _Can't back out now, am I right?_ " Or " _Run while you still can!_ " But decides against it. Steve probably won't appreciate it anyway.

Steve nods, though he hates it. A part of him wants to admit it all to Tony; he's dating him only because he was basically forced to. He's sorry. He doesn't want to lead him on. He's a terrible human being. But all that comes out is a small smile and a, "Yeah, of course. I'll text you."

Tony gives him a tight lipped smile in return and a nod, and then an awkward moment of just standing there before walking away.

It would have been nice to give him a hug, or at least a hand shake, but Steve just watches him leave, something leaving him sick and guilty as Tony disappears from the crowd.

The date wasn't even half bad.

And that's the _worse_ _part_. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this took so long! I was in the middle of moving and I didn't have wifi for, like, ever.

**Author's Note:**

> Sooooo how was it?? Please comment and next update shall be soon! <3


End file.
